My Father's Daughter
by falling-star13
Summary: My parents has naming issues. My family is too big for its own good. Getting my Hogwarts letter is the most important thing in a my life. And if that's not enough, I'm the daughter of Harry Potter. The Next Generation, redone


**Authoress Note**- This is a story that many of you may or may not know as _The Next Generation_. The original version is pathetically horrible, and in order for me to do what I want with later sequels, I find that I have to rewrite the entire thing. So rewrite I did. Completely and totally rewritten. Yes, many of the characters are the same, but not all are exactly the same as they were before or they might have different names or they may not even exist at all anymore (not to worry, guys. Allie and Alex are still around, you don't have to worry about that). Yes, the plot is essentially the same, but smaller plotlines may have been changed or the course of action to reach that point or why that part of the plot is a part of the plot. Things have changed. A lot of things have changed. So, yes, you readers of old, you need to reread it. Sorry. But it's different. So you need to do it to understand what's going on when I start reposting other things. That's just the way it is. For new readers... yeah, just enjoy the story. :-)

**Disclaimer**- Yeah, I think you know what I own. You recognize it, it doesn't belong to me. You don't, it belongs to me. So, basically, I own everything except for places and canon characters. Plot and all main characters? Mineminemine.

**Chapter 1- Daughter of the Boy-Who-Lived**

Have you ever woken up one morning and known, just as soon as you were awake, that something important was about to happen? That that day, something… life changing was going to happen?

Well, that's how the day I got my letter started out. Maybe it had something to do with my dream, which was oddly like Dad's story of how he got his letter. Insanely like it. Plus, it's not every day that I roll out of bed and manage to catch myself before I hit the floor. Usually, I hit my head on the side of my bed or land on my back on the floor or… Well, you get the idea. I like to _roll_ out of bed. Nasty habit, and painful too, but the rug on the floor usually helps.

I heard a snicker from the doorway of my room. When I looked up, my brother grinned back at me. "Nice catch, Lils," he teased. Okay, correction. He's my twin brother. Which makes it easier to accept when he makes fun of me than it does if my other brother makes fun of me.

"Thanks, Jay," I replied teasingly, pushing myself up off the floor and straightening up. I frowned at him curiously. "What are you doing up so early?" Normally I'm the first one out of the three of us (me, my twin brother James, and our older brother Rus, that is) to wake up in the morning. They say I'm too much of a morning person for my own good. I blame it on a fear of being pranked.

"Me? Need a reason to be up early?" James grinned innocently, making me frown at him and cross my arms in a 'Just tell me what you did' look that I learned from my aunt. One of my aunts. One of my many, many aunts. "I didn't do anything. Yet. Rus sent me to see if you were up."

"Comforting," I said dryly, walking over to the door and then walking past him to the stairs. "Well, I'm up." My brothers had a habit of teaming up against me at times. Of course, James and I teamed up on Rus a lot too. And then Rus and I would team up on James occasionally. It just depended on who was being the most annoying and who was the most available to help.

James followed me down the stairs. "I'm starving."

"You're a _boy_," I teased.

He grinned. "And proud of it."

On the main floor, we turned and walked down a hall past a never used sitting room with large curtains in the middle of the far wall. Someone visiting our house for the first time might assume that the curtains covered a window or a hidden hallway (well, in old and magical houses, those aren't rare). But someone that had been around the house for years like, say, our uncle Remus (who isn't really related to us, but you know) would know that the curtains actually covered a portrait of an older woman. An ugly, screaming, pure-blood fanatic of a woman.

And I guess this is where I have to explain a few things. Starting with my name. My name is Lily Potter, and I am the daughter of _the_ Harry Potter. Well, my _full_ name is Nymphae Liliana Potter, but I go by Lily for… convenience. It avoids most odd looks and questions. My name actually comes from Nymphadora Lupin, who saved my mum's life once (back when Mum was still a Weasley and N'adora was still a Tonks), and my grandmother, who died when… well, you know that story.

My parents have naming creativity issues. I mean, I can't really _blame_ them that much, but really. My older brother Rus, for example, is actually named Sirius. We just call him Rus because… Convenience again. And James I'm sure you've already figured out. Even my brothers' middle names (Fredrick and Remus, respectively) are after other people.

But if they ever have another child, they'll have to come up with a new name. There's no one else to name them after.

We live in Rus' namesake's house, which Dad inherited after the original owner… died? Fell through a veil never to be seen again? Anyway. The old portrait behind the curtain was here before Dad got the house. They tried for years to get the thing down, Dad says, but they were never able to. So they decided to fight sparks with sparks. If there was a permanent sticking charm to stick to the wall, what was wrong with one to keep the curtains stuck to her?

James and I headed down the stairs into the basement kitchen. We didn't even react to the fact that Remus was sitting in our kitchen, talking to Dad about one thing or another. People pop in and out of our house all the time. It comes with having a big family and Dad being a famous Auror and… It comes from a lot of things that would take too long to list off.

"Good morning," Mum said as we sat down at the table. There was already food on the table, so we just helped ourselves.

"Morning, Mum," we chorused in such perfect unison that even Dad and Remus stopped their conversation to look at us.

Dad smiled slightly and tossed two envelopes down the table. "You two got letters this morning."

James and I just glanced at each other before diving for our envelopes and ripping them open. It's not everyday that you get accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

_Dear Miss Potter,  
We are pleased to inform you that you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of the necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins Semptember 1st. We await your owl no later than July 31st. _

Yours Sincerely,  
Hermione Weasley  
Deputy Headmistress

I pulled out the second page to look at what it said, but by then, James was celebrating. By jumping up and dancing around in a circle singing, "We're going to Hogwarts! We're going to Hogwarts!" I grinned. With brothers around, there really isn't a need for any other kind of entertainment.

Of course, Rus decided then would be a good time to come down into the kitchen. He winked knowingly at me, not even needing to say anything. "'Morning."

Everyone greeted him (except James, who kept dancing) as Dad handed him an envelope of his own.

Rus took it and held it in his palm for a second, seeming to be considering what was inside even though I was pretty sure he knew _exactly_ what was in there. Finally, he started to rip it open. Even Mum paused in whatever she was cooking or cleaning or whatever to watch him open it. He pulled it open and, without taking anything out, started looking through the papers.

"Well?" Mum demanded in voice that said he'd taken long enough with opening it.

He grinned and held the envelope upside-down over his palm, catching the tiny pin when it fell out. My brother's going into his fifth year, by the way. Hence all the expectation. Mum crossed the room in three steps before throwing her arms around him. "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart!"

"Er… Thanks, Mum," Rus said, grinning. It really wasn't that much of a surprise that Rus was a prefect. Well… Maybe it was a bit. Rus really doesn't seem like the prefect type, when you just look at him. He and my cousin Ben have an obsession with pranks that can give our uncles Fred and George a run for their money. But he's smart (Mum has a nasty habit of giving the "You just need to apply yourself more, and you would be able to make much better grades" speech) and he's on the Quidditch team, so it was kind of expected.

When Mum let him go enough for him to breathe again, he dumped the whole batch of parchment out into his hand. Three pages in, he let out a whoop of glee (by then, James had calmed down enough to actually eat). "Quidditch co-captain!"

Yes, my brothers into pronouncing their joy to anyone in listening range. I blame it on the fact that they're half Weasley. They just tell me I'm too quiet to be a part of the family.

"I suppose that means you are going to be visiting Diagon Alley soon," Remus said, smiling slightly.

The three of us looked at each other before bursting out pleadingly. "Can we? Please, Dad? Can we go, _please_?"

Dad laughed slightly. "I suppose we can—" We started to cheer, but we stopped when he finished his sentence. "—if your mum says it's okay."

All of us turned our attention to Mum. She sighed, sending Dad a mock-glare, before giving in with a nod. We exchanged grins and thanked her. Rus slid into the seat next to James as Remus stood up. "Well, I guess I should be leaving. Dora said I wasn't allowed to do any work today."

"Tell her hi for us," Mum said.

Remus smiled and nodded. "She would ask if I didn't." He said his goodbyes, walked over to the fireplace, threw in a little floo powder, and disappeared in a puff of green smoke.

Dad looked to Mum. "I need to go over Ron's for a few minutes. Should I see if they want to go the Alley with us?"

"Yes," Mum said before any of the three of us could think of adding in our opinions on the topic. All of us cousins are extremely close, especially Uncle Ron's branch of the family. Probably because all of us grew up in practically the same house.

Dad nodded, standing up. "Will everyone be ready to go at half eleven?" There was a chorus of 'yes's from our end of the table. Dad smiled. "I'll be back around eleven, then." Mum nodded and there was a loud _pop_. Where Dad had been standing a few seconds before was now an empty space.

"All three of you leave your supply lists down here so I will know where it is that we need to go," Mum said. "Rus, check your Potions supplies for me, please. You always seem to be running low on something halfway through the year, and I would rather get everything now."

"That's because Pritchard will go for a straight term where every day he uses flobberworm skins," Rus said. "Or a straight term where every potion has daffodil stems. Or something like that. It doesn't have anything to do with me."

"Check and see what you're running low on, Rus," Mum said calmly, smiling slightly. "We have to pick up the twins supplies anyway."

"Yes, ma'am," Rus said cheerfully before turning to James and me with a grin. "Took you guys long enough to get your letters. I was worried there for a little while that you guys weren't going to get accepted."

"They send all the letters at the same time, and your letter still wasn't here," I said pointedly.

He grinned. "Maybe. You know being accepted means that you can't use your wands whenever you want to anymore, don't you? So all those times you tried to skip out on your chores by using your wand? Not going to work anymore." I pointed to James, making him grin. "And you also know, of course, that you have to get sorted into Gryffindor. You don't have a choice."

"Rus, stop trying to scare them," Mum said from the other side of the room, sounding slightly amused.

"I'm not scaring them, Mum," Rus said easily. "If I wanted to scare them, I would tell him that Pritchard's the worst teacher in the history of the school. Or that Aunt Hermione's classes are nearly impossible. Or that you're really mean to every kid that walks into your classroom. Or—"

"Sirius Fredrick," Mum said a little warningly.

Most people would be concerned if their mum called them by their full name, but Rus just grinned and turned back to us. "Potions should be easy if Pritchard likes you. Which he probably won't for the first, oh, five years. If you get on his bad side, he'll only ask you to answer the impossible questions. If he likes you, he'll give you the really easy, I-knew-this-when-I-was-born type of questions. If he doesn't really care about you one way or the other, he'll give you the medium questions."

"So how do you get him to like you?" James asked.

Rus winked. "Lie about your last name."

"Rus, if you're going to tell them about it, warn them that there's no way for them to sneak out of school," Mum said lightly, wiping off her hands. "Don't forget to clean up after yourselves when you're finished." With that, she walked back up the stairs and out of the kitchen."

"She's wrong," he said when he was sure she was out of earshot. "She knows all of the more popular passages, but she doesn't know all of them. I'll show them to you if you ever need to get to Hogsmeade, but that shouldn't be until your second year anyway."

James and I exchanged looks. "Why?"

"Because first years are too busy figuring out the castle to worry about what's outside. Well, the castle and the grounds. Just because you're my brother and sister doesn't mean you won't still be first years." We knew he was just kidding about the last part. Rus isn't the cocky one in the family. He's a guy, so he brags, but he's not nearly as bad as our cousin P.J. (or, that's what we call him. He would calmly inform you that his name is Percy, not Perce or Percy, Jr.). Ben can be bad at times too. But Rus usually isn't.

"Well, I'm going to go write Ben," he said cheerfully, getting up. "Just in case he doesn't already know. He owes me five sickles." My brothers and male cousins have a habit of making bets. Crazy bets, stupid bets, pointless bets. But they make them constantly.

"D'you think Dad will let us get owls today?" I asked. I'd always wanted my own owl. Not to send letters, just to have as a pet.

"Probably," James said easily. He grinned widely. "We're going to Hogwarts!"

I laughed. "And you ever _doubted_ it?"


End file.
